Nobody Here But Us Humans
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: Post SPN S8. Meg considers finally telling Castiel about how she feels… as she hangs out outside his door.


**Author's Note:** This was written as a prize fic for of_nightingales for her 2nd place win over at spnpairingbingo. I hope she enjoys what I've written for her! And I apologize for the wait. I had a great time writing this! **(It's taken me some time to post this here at ff for some reason, but I hope those who read will enjoy. And review... for my enjoyment, lol)**

* * *

**Nobody Here But Us Humans**

Neither one of them really liked being so… useless. Maybe that was because they had never really been truly useless. Both had always had a purpose, a mission. But, now that Meg sat there at the table, staring on as Dean explained the plot of _Who Framed Roger Rabbit?_ to a very perplexed Castiel while Sam chuckled—and tried to hide it—she thought about how neither one of them had really liked being dead either.

It had been a year, just about, since her own personal death, facing off with that smarmy dick, Crowley. One year since she had had that heart-to-heart with Sam outside Lucifer's Crypt… one year since she had all but confessed her love of Castiel to the tallest Winchester. Her unicorn, she had called her angel—except, he wasn't an angel anymore. No more than she was a demon. Both had tried to take on a personal battle, and both of them had suffered the loss of any and all powers they had possessed. Meg had been told—after the Winchesters and co. had found her, scraping by in some random town—that Cas had lost his Grace due to another douche—this one, by the name of Metatron—had used it as a part of casting down all the angels to Earth. As for her, they had all asked the same questions. How was she alive? How was she human? And, honestly, she didn't know. For fun, she liked to blame Cas.

It was probably his fault anyway. After all, demons weren't supposed to love. Lust, sure, that was a sin. One that Meg had used to love to party with way back when. But not love. So, the running theory was that when Crowley had stabbed her with the angel knife, it had cleansed her, instead of killing her.

Not that those details mattered now. No, what mattered now was finding the fallen angels, scattered about the globe. Apparently, that many Graces being lost caused some of them to resort to desperate measures to re-attain them… while the Graces themselves seemed to be causing random supernatural mischief here and there.

"So, this film ultimately promotes bestiality?" Castiel said, drawing Meg out of her musings.

She blinked, a grin forming on her lips at the dismayed look on Dean's face. Sam was no longer trying to hide his giggles. She shook her head, brushing a lock of her dark hair—she had gotten it fixed as soon as possible, damn that smarmy dick—over her shoulder.

"I may not have been paying close attention, Clarence, but I'm pretty sure that that's not what Dean-o meant for you to take away from that story," she said.

Castiel turned, blinking at her. Dean ran a hand over his face and stood.

"I'm out. I'm going to bed," he said as he disappeared into the back of the bunker.

That had been another issue, once she had been found. Do you take an ex-demon to your Library of All Things Creepy and Supernatural bunker? It hadn't been as big an argument as she had expected. Sam felt that she could do no harm now that she was human. Dean had questioned her loyalties. And then Castiel broke the tie. He pointed out that her knowledge of Hell could be useful… especially since Crowley was evidently on the run from Abaddon—who had taken things over.

Castiel looked even more confused now that Dean had left, turning to stare between Meg and Sam.

"Did I anger him somehow?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "Anger, no. Annoyed? Frustrated? Maybe a little. But, it is late, guys, and we humans need our sleep."

"We don't need to be reminded every night, Sammy. We're former, powerful beings. Not children," Meg snipped.

But Castiel crushed her point with a look. He nodded once, bid them good night, and left for his own room. Apparently, he was in need of a bed time. Meg sighed, watching him walk away with a shake of her head. A whole year of being human, and he was still missing some of the finer details.

"You used to be human," Sam said suddenly, as if reading her mind. "He's never been."

She crossed her arms, brow arched at the younger Winchester. "I'm well aware of that too."

Sam shrugged, and went back to his book that Meg had not noticed earlier. She flipped idly through an old copy of Bio magazine, trying her best to keep up with the Hollywood gossip. The two sat in silence, with the former demon only mildly amused that the one who had mentioned a bedtime had not departed for one. She flipped another page, but her eyes strayed upward, toward the corridor Clarence had disappeared down. Her mind was buzzing, but coherent thought was not happening. It was almost as if she knew what she _should_ be thinking, but the words just would not pass through. This was a part of being human that she hadn't missed at all. But Sam apparently had gained some sort of mind-reading ability over time. With a sigh that sounded very much like she was doing something to bug him, he all but slammed his hand down over his musty tome.

"Will you just tell him already? It's been, like, a year. Just get it over with," he groaned.

Meg turned, brow arched high. "Beg pardon, Sammy?"

"Cas. Tell Cas how you feel. You're human now, both of you. Forever isn't a wait option anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, turning back to her magazine.

But Sam wasn't convinced. He sighed again.

"You told me. You freakin' told me that you were in love with him!'

She turned, fighting the urge to shush him. That was a little too "embarrassed school girl" for her.

"I said no such thing!"

"You called him your 'unicorn.' Right after referring to Amelia as my 'unicorn.'"

"I meant only that Castiel was unique, Sam. Like a unicorn. Rare, you know?"

Now Sam grinned, playful. Meg scowled.

"You mean, rare as in you're a demon—or were—that fell in love with an angel—former?"

Meg flipped her magazine closed, deliberately leaving it on the table as she pushed herself out of her chair.

"I'm going to sleep."

Sam laughed, knowing that he had won. Meg couldn't help but release a little growl as she followed Castiel's route down the corridor.

She had had every intention of going to her room, which was a little farther down. But, as she came to the door that she knew to be Castiel's room, she paused. Lips pursed, she simply stared at the door. Maybe Sam had a point? After all, she knew of a human's limits, especially when it came to the tests of time. But she was not one for the flowery confessions of love. She hadn't just been being a bitch when she had told Crazy Cas that she hated poetry. Why dress up what you could just say? And yet… "I'm in love with you" didn't seem like her either.

Meg had no idea how long she had been standing there, like a creeper, staring at Cas's door. But it sure as Hell surprised her when it opened. She threw a hand over her heart, and jumped back a couple of paces. Cas's brow arched.

"Is something wrong, Meg?" he asked.

She shook her head, noting how the former angel had changed into a plain, gray t-shirt and a pair of semi-baggy sweats in the same color. Oddly, instead of looking frumpy or gross, he still looked hot. In fact, it took a moment for her to realize that he had even asked her a question.

"Uh, no, nothing's wrong," she said, shaking her head. "I was just… uh…"

She didn't have an excuse. She was a former demon, lying was supposed to be second nature. Thankfully, Castiel only stared on at her in polite confusion. So, with a laugh, she shook her head and gestured to the room behind him.

"Can I come in?"

He nodded, and side-stepped to allowed her entrance. She passed over the threshold, realizing that this was to be the first time she was going to be in Cas's room. It was plain, which was to be expected. It looked more like it belonged to an army recruit, which made sense she supposed. Angels were warriors, after all. Her eyes roamed the walls, landing on the sole movie poster on the wall, for the old movie _Michael_. A rather bad joke on Dean's part, Meg guessed.

Castiel closed the door behind him, and cocked his head at Meg.

"How can I be of service?" he asked.

It took every ounce of willpower for Meg to avoid the many innuendos that were bubbling up. She forced them all into a smile, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do you remember… before I died… do you remember what I said while you were dressing my wounds?"

It took a moment before Castiel answered. He started with a slow nod before he verbally responded.

"You hinted at us having… relations, much like those between the Pizza Man and the babysitter."

Meg made her way over to the wall nearest his neatly made bed, leaning against it.

"And what did you think about that?" she asked.

He squirmed. And it was adorable. He reached up, scratching absently at the back of his head.

"I, ahem, thought… it would be… interesting."

Meg frowned. "And what do you mean by that?"

Cas furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"Well… you mean interesting as in amusement park trip or interesting like a Discovery Channel documentary?"

Castiel shrugged. "I don't understand the difference."

Meg pinched the bridge of her nose. "The difference is… you know what, why don't we cover this a different night? Good night, Clarence."

Meg moved past Castiel, her hand touching the doorknob, when he called her to a stop.

"Meg… were you propositioning me just then?"

She turned. "Propositioning you?"

"For sex."

Meg blinked. Castiel grinned in his own, goofy way. After a moment, Meg laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe some other time, Tree-Topper."

"Our time is… limited now."

Meg crossed over to the former angel and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"How about when there's nobody here in this bunker but us humans?" she whispered.

"It's a date."


End file.
